


Promise

by EntreNous



Category: Lost
Genre: Incest, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-04
Updated: 2004-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-26 18:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ll take care of him,” Liam says and Charlie nods happily, yes, yes, Liam will take care of everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise

When they’ve finally signed the papers for the record-deal, a tour, franchising, and whatever the fuck else was in the small print, Charlie dips his head and smiles at the executive who’d been the liaison to Drive Shaft. But the other man doesn’t register his acknowledgement. Because he’s watching Liam, everyone watches Liam, long and lean and tilted against the door frame, a smile playing on his lips. 

“Take you boys out for a drink?” the exec says smoothly, and Charlie bounces a little on the balls of his feet because, yeah, they should go -- that’s what you do when you’re a star, charm the management and all that. 

Liam seems like he’s going to refuse, like he’s already got a plan going with a girl or two from last night, but when his gaze flickers over to Charlie he gives a small shake of his head. “Why not?” he says with a shrug, and they pack off into different cars on their way to the pub.

Their band mates round up more and more people as the evening turns to night, and it’s not long before the man from their new label begs off -- wife, little ones at home, a home, period -- all the things they’re going to fly away from when the tour begins in a month. Best for all, that, because the edges of the room turn hazier with each sip of whiskey, and the smoke and buzz of conversation around Charlie is blooming into something lovely and just a little dangerous. Best not to have a knowing eye about when what they’re arranging together, him and Liam and the other boys, and everyone else around them really, comes to its full scale sound. Charlie leans back in his chair and listens, clinking of glasses and piercing laughter and snorts of disbelief at a braggart’s claims mixing together, and it’s time --

“Time to leave? Not time,” Charlie protests when Liam puts his arms around him just under his arm pits and hauls him up from his chair. “You’re not paying attention, Liam, _listen_ \--”

“Listen to you, then?” Liam laughs. Charlie slumps against him, standing and feeling suddenly helpless and sweaty, glad for Liam’s warm frame propping his own. “Write it all down, baby brother, make it into something pretty, and I’ll sing it to you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Charlie says dreamily, and leans his head back on Liam’s shoulder, his indignant dispute of a moment ago forgotten as he breathes in tobacco and the bottom heavy scent of the alcohol and the sweet smooth murmurings against his hair as Liam discusses quietly with the others what they ought to do next.

He brushes his lips against Liam’s neck and sighs, settles comfortably when Liam’s arms tighten around him.

A jostle and stumble, and they’re being driven back, by whom Charlie doesn’t know, and the lights of the signs filter through the rain and the vehicle’s window until they play across Liam’s skin, red and gold and green like the sun coming through the stained glass at Saint Mary’s.

“You okay then?” a voice asks, and Charlie hears Liam demur as he’s pulled again to his feet, and he laughs because of course he’s quite well.

“I’ll take care of him,” Liam says to the voice, and Charlie nods happily, yes, yes, Liam will take care of everything.

Step step step up the two flights leading to the flat they share, and Liam hangs on Charlie’s neck as he unlocks the door. “We made it,” he says in wonder, and Liam gives him a little shove into the chair that sits by the bed. “Bed,” Charlie says intelligently, because somehow they’ve moved into the bedroom, Liam’s bedroom, already, and he’d missed that part, the walking through the rooms and the usual debate over whether to make chips themselves or go and get a curry. He pats the mattress with his hand and makes an approving noise -- soft, and with Liam, and Liam will take care of him.

“Had enough, baby boy?” Liam says to him and Charlie shakes his head vigorously, because no, he’s not had nearly enough, he wants more, so he crawls onto the bed and starts stripping off his shirt, tangling up in the jacket he’s still wearing over it, choking with laughter as Liam sets it all right, takes it off for him.

“You’ll take care of me,” Charlie says into the dark when all he sees are Liam’s eyes above him, and he moans when he feels a hand stroking him, and it’s not long before he’s shoving his hips up and panting.

“Yeah,” Liam says, and stops for a moment. His eyes train on Charlie’s face as he holds Charlie’s hips down with one hand, lays his body over him, and begins to move against him, hardness to hardness, just the way they like it, the way they have for years, the way that you don’t have to tell anyone about, not even in the dark when the light filters through and you’re asked if you’ve sinned, because they’re brothers, and brothers do for each other.

“Pretty sounds, you make such pretty sounds,” he insists when he sees Liam bite his lip, because he wants to hear them, and when the first groan comes out of Liam’s mouth he wriggles in excitement. “Together,” he adds nonsensically, because it’s together they’ve entered into this, signed this pact, and together they’ll reach this height with grunts and pants and gasps, and when Liam cries out and there’s wet between them Charlie knows, he knows, together. It’s a promise.


End file.
